


Turns Out, Bombs are Way Easier to Make than Cakes

by caramelcoastal



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Bad Cooking, Birthday Cake, Cake, Cutesy, F/M, First Kiss, Fluff, Fluffy Ending, Junkrat Can't Cook, Kiss on the Cheek, but he tries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-09
Updated: 2017-01-09
Packaged: 2018-09-15 21:14:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9257576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caramelcoastal/pseuds/caramelcoastal
Summary: A bomb, a bomb is easy to understand. If it works right, it blows up. If it doesn't blow up, you did something wrong. Cakes are not like bombs. Too bad Junkrat didn't realize that sooner before he signed up to bake a birthday cake for the girl he loves.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This was a request for anonymous on tumblr. "Junkrat tries very hard to bake a cake for Symmetra's birthday". 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed!

The second that thing came out of the oven, Junkrat knew something was just off about it. Ever since he’d joined and become a part of Overwatch, he’d only had cake twice, and both times the cake itself was fluffy and soft looking. The large cream-colored rock he’d pulled out of the oven, bare handed of course, was denser than a brick, and could probably made into a good replacement for Reinhardt’s hammer. 

Placing it on the counter, he pondered just what he’d done wrong to have it turn out like this. Cutting off a sliver, he nibbled on it. It was about just as hard as it felt, and dryer than the wasteland deserts he grew up in. The many times he’d tasted cement were more pleasant than this thing. Bitterly, he filled up a glass of water and guzzled it, slamming the cup down and turning back around to face the monstrosity he’d created out of flour, eggs, and sugar.

Hana peeked her face into the kitchen. “Oh that smells very… Good, Junkrat!” she said, crinkling her nose and covering it as if he didn’t see. “Satya will be here in half an hour. Everything else is ready. But, why did you take so long to get started on the cake?”

He frowned. While he could just tell the truth, and say that this bastard was cake number seven, and that he’d been trying to bake something edible for the past two days, he wanted to save a little pride. “You know me, Hana. I forget things pretty easy.”

She laughed, nodding in agreement. “You sure do. I guess I just figured, since it’s Satya’s birthday, maybe you would have remembered. You know. Satya,” Hana said, winking and putting extra emphasis on her name.

Junkrat’s eyes quickly diverted to the cake. There were many things he was comfortable talking about with Hana but how he felt about Satya was not one of them. Despite her promises to keep her mouth shut, he knew her lips moved faster than her brain, and it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility that she could accidentally spill the beans. 

“Hana, out of the kitchen. Go check on everything else while I ice this bugger,” he sighed, pulling the cake out of the pan, once again with his bare hands. 

“Jeez, doesn’t that burn?” she asked, looking from behind him curiously.

He turned to the streamer and looked her dead in the eyes. “Disappointing Satya burns far worse than this cake pan, Hana.” 

He dropped the cake on the counter with a loud and frankly kind of disturbing thud. It really made Junkrat wonder whether or not this thing was safe for Satya to eat, but he didn’t have the time. He grabbed the frosting and started smearing it on with the knife like a mad man, getting frustrated when the ‘skin’ of the cake started peeling off with the knife. 

Junkrat was hoping to cover up this mess with frosting, not make it fucking worse. When he accidentally cut a small piece off, he snapped, and pulled a big gob of pink frosting out with his fist. Like a madman, he started spreading it on, just making it even more hideous and sad than it already was. He felt like his miserable cake: damaged and sloppy.

With a loud groan of frustration, he crumpled to his knees and fell to the floor, refusing to move until the cake magically turned into a beautiful three tier marble cake with all the glitz and glamour a goddess like Satya deserved. When he looked up and the cake still looked like the ugly love child between the Pillsbury dough boy’s anus and a clinically depressed flamingo, he gave up in defeat. 

“Hana, I’ll be back, I have to go get a cake from the store,” he sighed, walking into the main room and grabbing keys off the hook.

“No you’re not. First of all, Morrison said you can’t even look at a car after what you did to his last time. Second, she just sent Angela a text saying she’d be here early. She’s like, two minutes away, and everyone’s got to get in place. You’re done-zo, buddy. Finished.” She formed her fingers into a gun and ‘fired’ at Junkrat. “Shot down.”

Junkrat felt the weight of his failure come down on his shoulders, and he slumped to the spot where he and Roadhog were supposed to hop out and surprise Satya. The only problem was, no one could seem to place where Roadie was, and Junkrat was too frustrated with himself to even think about going to look for him. Whatever, if he ruined his end of the surprise, that was his fault.

Angela ran inside through the front door. “She’s walking up now, everyone, get in your places!” she exclaimed, diving behind a couch where Jack and his husband Gabe were as well.

Last second, right before she opened the door, Jamison realized Roadhog was suddenly next to him. He jumped a bit, surprised that the hefty bloke had managed to sneak up on him like that. Without any words or reason why, Roadhog gave him a thumbs up. Junkrat would have asked, had he not heard the sound of a doorknob turning, and a door creaking open.

Satya stepped in, the sound of her white boots stomp-clacking to the center of the room before everyone jumped out to surprise her and the lights flashed on. Her shoulders went rigid, and her arched eyebrows shot up in shock, before realizing what this all was. The startled expression melted into glee, and the corners of her soft lips turned up.

“This is very unneeded but I can appreciate the sentiment.” She clapped her hands together, and enjoyed the decorations. “You all put this together? How lovely.”

Mercy clasped her hands together. “We’ve got presents, and the wine you said you liked, and a cake.”

“Well, I haven’t eaten much today. So, I would like to start with the cake.” Satya said as she stepped in the direction of the kitchen.

Junkrat wanted to just disappear. That ugly, misshapen cake was going to ruin her entire birthday, and it was all his fault. Ladies like Satya deserved the world, and so much more, not a rotten piece of wood slathered in frosting. Bile began rising in his throat. D.Va was giving him shifty, concerned eyes. This was shaping up to be the worst day he’d had in a very long time.

Then, the room got very quiet. Everyone must have known about the abomination Junkrat had made in there, it was like a sin against the baking gods. Their anticipation was met with a gasp and a loud, shrill feminine noise from the kitchen. Junkrat felt light headed as D.Va frantically dashed in with the hopes of trying to make her go easy on his cake.

“Satya, I’m so sorry. Junkrat wanted to make this cake for you so badly, and he tried really hard on it. I know it isn’t ideal-” D.Va immediately stopped talking as soon as she walked into the kitchen.

Everyone else quickly followed in-suit and stared at the five-star-chef level delicacy on the table before them. The frosting was a glossy swirl of blues, aquamarines, and whites. It was an absolutely glamorous looking three layer cake rimmed with edible golden ribbons and pearls, encapturing exactly what the birthday girl herself would look like if she was a pastry. Junkrat was stunned, his mouth left agape by the marvelous cake before him.

“Junkrat, you made this?” she asked, turning to look at the idiot with his mouth hanging open. All he could do was dumbly bob his head up and down in a half-hearted attempt at a nod.

Her eyes flickered to an ornately folded piece of paper resting beside the cake, which she picked up and unfolded to read what was inside outloud. “Satya, I wish the best birthday wishes for you. You deserve the whole world, but the best I could do was a cake that barely reflects your beauty. With warm regards, Jamison Fawkes.”

Touched, she walked over to him with the note still in her hand. Junkrat had lost all sense of what was going on, made even worse when she wrapped her arms around his chest and hugged him tightly. Everything overwhelmed him at once, especially her perfume, which smelled like honey and love.

“This is all so wonderful. No one has ever put this much effort into something for me, it’s really pleasant,” she cooed, her eyes shut. He just stood there, wobbling, wondering if he was going to pass out or die, or pass out then die. He looked over to Roadhog, to see if he had any idea of what was going on.

All Roadhog did was give him a thumbs-up again, and Junkrat looked down at the note to see that it was, in fact, Roadhog’s beautiful handwriting, and he put the rest together from there. Oh god, did he ever owe his mate for this.

“You’re welcome, Satya. I’m really glad you uh… Like the cake. Spent two whole days trying to get one to come out right, just for you, so I hope it was worth it,” he blabbered, scratching the back of his neck.

She stood on her tippy toes and gently kissed his cheek.. “I love the cake, Jamison. I can’t thank you enough.”

When everyone had gone inside the kitchen to sing happy birthday and eat cake, Satya had stayed very close to Junkrat, without even realizing she had just made him the happiest man in the world. Right beside her, he stood, still dazed by the kiss on the cheek, and daydreaming about a long happy life with the woman stuffing her face with a cake almost half as pretty as she was.


End file.
